


Venom and Virtue: Chop-Top Sawyer x Reader

by MadelineSawyer



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: Dark Comedy, F/M, Horror, Opposites Attract, POV First Person, Self-Insert, Some love making could happen but not until way later on, Wish coming true
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadelineSawyer/pseuds/MadelineSawyer
Summary: A young college student with a troubled upbringing longs to escape her reality and wishes to be anywhere else. The wish is granted... but it didn't go completely as desired. Now, she finds herself mysteriously in the middle of Texas in a different decade. What's worse? She's trapped in the home of the Sawyer Family! Yet somehow, the beast is tamed by the lamb of the slaughter.
Relationships: Robert "Chop Top" Sawyer/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	1. I Just Sit Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I think it’s very important you read this if you have any triggers of the kind. I don’t want you to read anything that you’d find uncomfortable. I’ll give heads up each chapter however.  
> This story contains:  
> -Gore/Blood  
> -A Protagonist with a background of child abuse  
> -PTSD (both from the reader and Chop-Top himself)  
> -Suicidal thoughts  
> -Occasional Sexual Content
> 
> HOWEVER!!!!!  
> Despite said angsty warnings, It’s only the beginning that’s angsty and rough. I promise it’ll be lighthearted starting chapter 6 and onward (as much as it can get from the gosh darn Texas Chainsaw Massacre).
> 
> I never thought my love for Chop-Top would get this big, but I have to express it through writing if I don’t want to repress any longer. This is essentially a written project for me to cope with my trauma, but I also wanted to share a story with others.I was inspired as well. It’s my first full-length fanfiction and possibly the only one I’ll ever write.  
> So, without any further wait, I present to you our story.  
> Thank you for taking the time to read this and enjoy!
> 
> P.S. Please forgive me for being self-indulgent. I use female pronouns for this story. But know that Chop-Top and his hippie mentality means being open-minded. So no matter your gender identity, he loves you just the way you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING  
> This has serious mentions of abuse at home. Not as an event of the story, but be careful. If this makes you uncomfortable, skip to chapter 2. You'll still get a thorough explanation.

_Inside, outside, upside down_

_Everything is turning ‘round_

_Backwards, forwards, which is right_

_Black is day and white is night_

_Smell the air, it’s real uptight_

_And I just sit here…_

It’s been a long day. I returned home from my daily commute to college. My mind’s heavy on me and I’m exhausted. Maybe I’ll lighten up after the next semester when I’m free from the requirement of existential philosophy. Not the best class for someone who’s easily anxious.

My fatigue blurred me into a trance, so time sped up to where I could finally change into pajamas. I got dressed and crawled into bed. I wrapped myself in purple layers of bedsheets. Even with the coldness of the outside world, I could at least have a cozy place with soft blankets to warm my broken heart.

What an awful class. It’s good to have something that makes you think. But at what cost when your brain is nothing more but a minefield of panic attacks waiting to occur? As I stared at my white ceiling, I found myself already getting overwhelmed again. The sickening memories seep through the cracks above and I forgot the welcoming environment of my room. The cuddly faces of stuffed animals and colorful, floral decorations have faded out of focus. I begin to clutch my comforter tightly.

Life hasn’t been kind to me in the beginning. I’ve grown up in a broken home. My father does nothing but drink wine. He used to be so much worse when he was younger. Vodka made him very violent. His “rough-housing” was awful, always choking my neck because it was funny, no matter how much 4-year old me had been crying pleas of mercy. Granted, he’s done a number of awful things, like “joking” with insults and the like. Telling me to “man up” if I didn’t feel comfortable. Nowadays, he’s weak. Vodka has been banned from the house since I turned 14 (and frankly, too strong for him.) All he does now is sit in his armchair, wasting away whatever’s left of his failing health with glasses of sauvignon blanc. 

My mother is… more complicated. She was and can be very supportive. She definitely raised me with love and guided me to have the stepping stones to have a far better life in my adulthood. But sometimes, I worry that she’s lost her head due to who she ended up with. She takes it out on me with yelling and ordering around. I used to be able to confide in her, but I end up being the one she confides in. I don’t mind helping her and yet I can’t bear anymore of it. When stuff happened with my peers harming me, I was only told to “suck it up” from both sides. I think the absence of my father is what led me to take his place for my mom and become her support. It hurts… a lot. I share both love and fear for her. I know ultimately, she’s changed. I have to escape them both someday.

For years, it feels like I’m trapped in a dreary nightmare. I try to be compassionate as best as I can though. I never want anyone to feel like they’re annoying or not worthy of love. There’s too much cruelty in the world. All these layers of child abuse, bullying, messed up imagery. Am I disgusting too? Am I going to end up like my parents?! It’s all my fault I brushed off everything until years later. Now, I’ve truly ruined my soul.

The room is spinning and all I can do is sob into the blankets. So much happened in so little time. I can’t even connect all the puzzle pieces. My mind wants to block it all out. But I have hope for a future… right? I can put all this behind me! I just hope I can share this with someone. I try to wipe the tears out of my eyes. My teardrops burn so much. 

_Maybe some music will get my mind off of it_ , I think to myself. **Music is my life** . It usually helps me express myself and I can’t go a day without it. I quietly head over to my stereo. Rummaging through the bin of CDs that laid next to it, I saw a DVD of my favorite horror film: _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2._ I couldn’t help but smile. It’s morbid when you think how someone finds comfort in a film about murder and a family of cannibals. Maybe it’s because I finally overcame my fear of scary movies recently. My father constantly put them on and forced me to see them as a kid. I didn’t want to and often felt scared and upset. But now that I finally find enjoyment in rooting for the final girl, and to an extent, am desensitized to gore galore, he lost the power to scare me. 

I keep a secret about the film. I happen to find Chop-Top to be my fave. _A little too much_ of being my fave _._ At first, I was terrified of the idea of even crossing paths with him. But as time went on, I found that at the end of the day, he’s just someone who’s been hurt too much. I mean, his family lost their jobs and became poor, he was drafted to Vietnam and left with a metal plate grafted to his skull. Only to return home with the news that his twin died and eventually ended up in jail with the rest of his family dead (well, he’s supposed to but that follow-up movie is a long story). Not even a chance for him to find joy and nobody offered him a speck of kindness. I can identify with how he feels having the weight of the world on your shoulders make you lose your mind. Deep down, I hope we could heal together and make a world of our own to live in.

But that’s dumb of me to even think we’d work out! I chuck the dvd and pick up my CD of Oingo Boingo. “What am I doing? Trying to make myself more upset?” I sigh. I put it in the disc and headed back to the bed. I’m such a baby! I wear my heart on my sleeve and somehow after all these years, I just keep extending my hand out. I’m too hopeful. He’s more feral and who knows if he ever had any remorse in the first place. I turn to the window for a few moments of stargazing.

I notice that the North Star is gleaming more confidently tonight. I gaze into the glistening diamond and think to myself, _How I wish I could end up with someone like Chop-Top_. I saw someone stronger than me. Someone funny, hard-working, and passionate for the things that he actually cared about. And in a sense, he can be smart in some aspects if you look deep enough. 

I feel like an idiot, though. This isn’t some magical fan-fiction where I travel through some wormhole to 1986 in Dallas, Texas a la Tobe Hooper timeline. It’s a shame it’s this disappointing, but perhaps the least I can do is hope I bump into someone similar to him on my trips to the record store or my weekend nature hikes.

I shut off the light and fell face forward into the mattress. The first track lulled me to sleep. Maybe it’ll get better someday. After all, Danny Elfman’s right. _It’s just another day..._


	2. Living in a Dream

_Fear lies over me, I feel it all around_

_Something's looking at me and I think it's got a crown_

_It's not a king or a queen but something in between_

_Now I'm only hoping that I'm living in a dream_

_It’s just a dream..._

I start to wake up slowly. _I guess I better get ready for-_ **_wait_ ** **.** I try to open my eyes, only to find myself behind the wheel of a large automobile. I never saw a car phone before? I thought that was a thing for rich yuppies in the… No. I have to be crazy! It’s still night time and thank god the car is parked. In front of me is a music shop. The road is nearly dead, just two cars passed by before dead silence. Did I get kidnapped in the middle of the night? I mean, surely! I’m still wearing my flowery pajamas. But this looks nothing like my hometown. I’m going to look crazy, but I better head inside. I notice my backpack next to me and rummage around past my sunglasses. I still thankfully have my wallet with me. I grab my backpack and the keys by the stick shift. I’m approaching very anxiously.

The bell on the door alerted who I assume is the owner of the store. He was an older man with large glasses, a mustache and a warm smile on his face. He started to chuckle immediately the moment I approached the counter. “My goodness, darlin’!” he warmly said.

“You’re lucky you showed up 10 minutes before closin’ time!” 

“Oh, don’t mind my outfit!” I sheepishly grin.

“Could you um…tell me where I am exactly? What town?” 

“This is Dallas, hon. You don’t sound like you’re from ‘round here.”

I start to sweat. _Oh boy, so I guess I’m either having a crazy dream or I’ve finally got enough cobwebs in my attic._ Gazing around the libraries of records, record players and cassettes I look behind him. The calendar behind the store owner reads _August of 1986_. Well, now I’m too nervous to ask for help. To avoid looking more of a maniac, I try to cover up with a convincing story.

“Oh! Yes, I’m from uh… New York. I-I came all the way here to have a… have a pajama party with my sister and her friends. Do you have any vinyl for Vanilla Fudge?”

Puzzled at my stuttering, he remains patient with me.

“I haven’t heard that name in a while. Let me check the back, alright?” he tells me. He gets up and heads to a backroom full of boxes. 

I‘m practically vibrating out of panic. My heart’s going to leap out of it’s chest. I try and keep grounded by looking around. There’s a window display with a record player, and a bunch of albums to accompany it. I nearly jumped when I saw that among Huey Lewis and Cindi Lauper was one of my favorite albums of Siouxsie and the Banshees sitting there. It has a large sticker on it reading “ **Import** ” on the right corner above _Tinderbox_. I forgot how much of a hassle it was getting special records back then, based on the stories my mother told me. So who knows how much it costs with the hassle of it getting here. 

I noticed the radio on top of the cherrywood counter and listened closely to the end of whatever song was playing. I couldn’t recognize the band.It faded out and on came a peppy woman with a southern accent.

“YOW! It is 7:54 Texas time on a Friday night. I sure hope you can stick with us tonight on a little mix I got goin’ for y’all. And remember, don’t forget to call (469) 848-OKLA if there’s something you wanna hear. I’ll be takin’ request ‘till midnight.”

Oh my god.

_It’s her._

Thanks to Stretch, I forgot fear in that moment and went full-on fangirl mode. I then realized in that moment, hey! If my wish really did come true, I may as well take advantage of it, right? I checked around before running behind the counter and frantically grabbing the phone. It slipped between my fingers and made a loud **THUD** to the ground. I hissed, worried the owner heard me and pulled it up quickly by the cord. I dial the number and take a deep breath, as I braced myself to hear her voice on the other line.

“ Red River Rock and Roll request line, this is Stretch!”

“Hello, Stretch! I’m a huge fan!” I start to gush.

“Well, it’s great you support our little show here on K-OKLA radio. What’s your request?”

I start to smile ear to ear, starting to feel mischievous. My cheeks are heating up and the ceiling fan’s slow speed above is doing me no good. A quote from Chop-Top echoes in my mind. 

_M-me and Bubba my little brother, we listen ‘to ‘ya ev’ry night!_

_“_ W-well, can you please dedicate the next song to my sweetheart, Chop-Top? It’s called ‘Is It For Love’ by Humble Pie.” I covered the receiver with my hand, snickering to myself. I can only imagine how hilarious it’d be seeing him all miffed about whoever the heck this secret admirer is. I would’ve said Bobby, but that’s too vague. I don’t think he likes that name either.

“Chop-Top? Um…” She pauses for a moment. “No problem! Take care.”

“Th-Thanks, you too!” I sputter before hanging up. I guess his name is a little strange.

The owner comes back with a 45 of the single “Keep Me Hanging On”. 

“This is all I have for now,” he tells me. I make my purchase, wish him well and head my merry way back to the black BMW. I sure hope I’m not stealing someone’s car. Especially if they’re rich, that means I’ll be sued. But at least I have something to get me places. I put my wallet away and decided to look at my sunglasses. They were purposely similar to Chop-Top’s shades; they were a pair round, John Lennon shades with a violet hue. I decided to put them on. “Hey, maybe I can try to have fun with this.” I figured this could be a very vivid dream.

I start the car and head onto the road. Nothing but trees, stars and the glow of traffic lights surrounding me in Texas tonight. I cautiously drive around. I have no clue where I’m heading, but hopefully I’ll find my way. I turn on the radio and flip to I finally hear Stretch’s voice chirp through the speaker again mid-sentence. 

“-caded to Chop-Top! Whoever you are, your girl’s thinkin’ about you. How sweet! Looks like love is in the air tonight.” At this point, I couldn’t help but wheeze into hysterics. “Oh no!!” I giggled to myself. “He’s gonna turn me into a rotisserie if he finds me!” I pulled over to my right and parked the car. I couldn’t help but work out the exercise I was giving myself. My stomach started to hurt and I kept smacking the horn. I attempted to mimic him. “Whoooo the f-fuck did this?! A commie spy?!” 

I snapped out of it by another pair of laughing loonies, speeding nearly 93 miles an hour. The sound of a gunshot made me jump and bang my head on the roof. It felt like a clothing iron smacked me on the top of my head. Rubbing the possible bump I got, I checked my mirror and saw two jerks wreaking havoc.They’re horrible! Normally, I’d let them go, but they’re going to hurt someone else. And I feel lucky tonight. I make a sharp U-Turn to tailgate behind them. I don’t know who they are, but I better scold them to go home.


	3. No One Lives Forever

_ I'm clever as can be _

_ And I'm very quick _

_ But don't forget _

_ We've only got so many tricks _

_ No one lives forever! _

The yuppie boys are speeding ahead of me.They’re obnoxiously hooting and hollering, pistol ablazing towards the silver moon watching from above. I hope they don’t notice me as I slow down, trying to somewhat creep up. I know I said I’d confront them, but I’d rather wait to strike until I see someone else on the road. Trying to ignore them, I turn up the radio. No One Lives Forever by Oingo Boingo started up. Yes! It’s one of my favorite songs! I begin tapping my fingers against the leather steering wheel, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The feeling is so liberating. I roll down the windows to let the cool breeze blow through my (h/c) hair. There were a few orange street lights, illuminating down on me, but it was very dark outside. 

My smile changed to a scrunched-up grimace when I heard them over the phone. 

“K-OKLA Red Rock and Roll Request?” asked Stretch.

“What it is, Stretch? It’s the Buzz again!” replied a young man. 

It didn’t occur to me until that moment who it was I was following.  _ “ _ Oh boy…” I was already getting annoyed at their heckling, something about “Bright Lights, Big Titties.” I wanted to call up with the phone next to me, but I knew doing so wouldn’t work. The line’s held up by the dim-witted dummies to begin with. I stopped gritting my teeth until it occurred to me that something was missing. 

The blanks were filled in as we approached a long bridge to a screeching halt. In front of Buzz and Rick the Prick, a navy pickup truck blocked the path with a thundering  _ AWOOGA _ . I froze shortly and exhaled, “Oh shoot.” I guess I really was awake. I could still hear what the new to-be livestock were squealing over the radio. “The fuck?” Rick furrowed his brows in disbelief. “Hey! Back up, pig fucker!” interjected Buzz. Oh, that truck backed up alright. The pickup swerved into reverse and began driving trunk first. I had to stop it somehow! The rules are different now. Sure, these guys were jerks but they were stupid college students I could’ve probably bumped into back home. This wasn’t fiction anymore. I couldn’t let a murder go down. 

The boys and the truck were side by side ahead. The bridge was too narrow for me to squeeze my way in between. Before I knew it, out jumped a pair of Sawyer brothers. Leatherface and the battered corpse of Nubbins tied to him were dancing in the back of the truck. It felt much more different to see from a first-person point of view. When light glowed onto the two, I could only make out Nubbins. His skin was dried and wrinkled, and he was much bonier than I expected. The lighting shaded his face to a sinister expression, forever frozen since his final breath. The brothers were frantically raving about. With flailing arms, they were practically taunting the yuppies. They must’ve felt like dumb mutts now, with their tails between their legs. But dog will hunt! Maybe they shouldn’t have been playing chicken in the first place. They frantically begged for help as Leatherface added in a revved-up chainsaw to the macabre performance. Leather let out a barbaric war cry before sawing into the side of the tan car. Golden sparks lit up from the friction like a messed-up firecracker. My eyes widened with terror. I couldn’t think of a good solution. I tried honking the horn and yelling at him. “HEY! BUBBA!” He stopped what he was doing and whipped his head around. He was still but posed with the chainsaw out, the charcoal smoke filling Nubbins’ nose. His locked on gaze with me made me feel like prey, with how his eyes scanned me. He tilted his head in confusion. 

I felt myself run over a large bump. That bump wasn’t a speed bump to my misfortune. I could see from the back of Buzz’ car a body violently convulsing its muscles, spraying some of the windows and the passenger with blood. I failed. There was nothing I could do to prevent this. As Rick the Prick cried out his final wail, the car drove off the end of the bridge and tumbled into a ditch. I could feel my blood boil.  _ Why couldn’t I have helped them? _ , I thought. My hands were like talons when I gripped to the steering wheel and raced beside the truck, which surprisingly ignored the possibility of fresh meat down Exit 53. I was at the verge of tears. “You have to be kidding me!” I barked. “Show yourself!” The driver rolled down his windows. 

He had a short, raven-black bob similar to Sonny Bono, but it had more static frizz to it. His skin was a pasty white which brought out the yellowish-orange in his rotted teeth that stuck out in his sickening smile. On the left side of his face was a large birthmark. Behind the same purple shades I was wearing were icy blue eyes. A tear streaked down my face. “Chop-Top?” I murmured. His crooked smirk dropped. “W-Were you the one who- ‘ey! HEY! LOOK AT THE ROAD BITCH!” I turned and saw a large streetlight in front of me. I quickly swerved and drifted to a screeching halt. 

I couldn’t pay attention to my surroundings, other than the same flickering light above me. My body vibrated, overwhelmed by the events that just took place. He pulled over and stepped out of his truck, waving Bubba to get in and stay there. His slender frame approached me. I was clearly being visited by the grim reaper. “Get out of the car.” he ordered. I didn’t bother hesitating. I turned off the car and slung my backpack over my shoulder, carefully walking out. I also grabbed the 45 I purchased out of panic in hopes for a peace offering. Misunderstanding, Chop-Top yanked me back by the shoulder and locked me in a death grip. The cold blade of a straight razor was right against my neck. “Thought you could pull a knife on me, spy? Huh?! The hell is your deal!?”, he ranted. I remained silent in terror. “Gimme a damn good reason why I shouldn’t slit your fuckin’ throat.” “It’s...n-not a-” “Speak up!” “It’s not a knife!”

He finally noticed the tiny record in my hands. His mood swung within seconds to giddy laughter. “Oooh! I-is that fer me?!” “Y-yes, I bought it just for you.” He let go and excitedly grabbed the Vanilla Fudge out of my hands. It was oddly sweet to see his eyes light up. He did a little jig, jumping up and down like he won the lottery. “Woooo! Eheheh! Gosh, you sure are somethin’! I’ve been dying to own this. It sells like- like hotcakes though, so... I-I can barely find it whenever I’m not getting my ass beat by the cook.” 

He cupped my face with one of his hands, amused by my different demeanor. “You are a weird lil’ spy,” he cooed. “I’m not a spy though,” I frowned. “But you’d never believe me if I tried to tell you.” “Aww, don’t worry! I won’t hurt you… yet!” He up-roared with maniacal laughter. “You can jus’ come with me. You can tell me your little story back home.” His hand, wrapped around my hip, gently pushed me to his truck. I felt a drop in my stomach. I surely got the reality check I needed, even though I’m guaranteed to die. I slid into the truck. Bubba moved so I could sit in the middle, my bag on my feet. Chop-Top started the engine and headed straight down to wherever Texas Battle Land would be. 

I looked at Bubba, and he nervously looked back at me. I smiled and did a quick little wave. He copied me, cocking his head sideways like a lost puppy. That wasn’t so bad. I turned to Chop and said, “You know, I was thinking you were going to clonk me on the head with something.” He shot a glance at me. “Oh yeah….What’s yer name anyways?” 

“(Y/N)”

“Aw, that’s a pretty name. I like it!”

The drive is quiet for a couple minutes until Chop-Top speaks up again. “Now that you mention it… I think I changed my mind.”

“Wait wait no nO NO!-” It was too late. I was bludgeoned with a hammer hard enough that I quietly blacked out. I passed out on Bubba’s shoulder. Lord knows where, or if, I'll wake up.


	4. The End (Or So I Thought)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter 😅

_This is the end, beautiful friend_

_This is the end, my only friend_

_The end of our elaborate plans_

_The end of everything that stands_

_The end… No safety or surprise_

_The end…_

_I’ll never look into your eyes again..._

I felt a throbbing pain on the top left of my skull. I want to reach for it as I try and get up but… I can’t. I’m propped up against a creaky headboard, tied up in itchy rope around my body and my arms behind my back. The bedroom has a technicolor glow to it, thanks to the Christmas lights. There are psychedelic paintings of mushrooms and castles on the brown, dusty looking walls. Record album covers are sprawled on the floor with balled up clothing on the floor. A mobile composed of rib and finger bones hung over a little orange couch with a record player and where a small radio was, softly playing some rock music. Between the bed and the wall corner, I swear I saw adult magazines (which made me feel sick). On the other side was the night stand, where a purple lava lamp barely illuminated the darkness away. There was also a glass bottle of Big Red soda with a green silly straw in the bottle.

I can’t catch a break, so I honestly hope he at least puts me out of my misery. Where is Chop-Top anyways? Within what felt like forever, Rat Man ambushed into his nest, slamming the door behind him. His wig wasn’t on this time, so I was thrown off seeing him with his shiny, chrome top this time. “Finally! You slept in a liiiiittle too long!” Panting, he slowly made his way towards me on the bed. “Now you better tell nothin’ but the truth, got it? You…You don’t want to end up in the burn barrel, do ‘ya? I won’t bother eatin’ you until you prove your good enough to be prime meat.” I sighed, wilting like a dying rose. _How encouraging._ “Trust me. I’d be a real idiot to mess with you.” I forced a smile, my eyes drained with dread. “You’re much stronger than me anyways.” Chop was so confused. _Why does she keep butterin’ me up?_ , he wondered. “I don’t know,” he tsked. “Sure handled being captured far better than the tons of other meat we bring home.” 

“Really?”

“O-oh hell yeah! You- heh! You kiddin? I’m all for hearing the screams. But after awhile, you get pissed off with the wailing and how they’re always squirming. One asshole smacked me up good in the plate, nearly dentin’ it!” He immediately caught me off guard with his killer impression. **“AAAUGHHH!! LEMME GOOOOO!! HEHEHHAHAHAHA!”**

I jolted in response. Laughing at me, he started petting my hair. “Jeez, I-I’m sorry! I was just messin’ around. I don’t know why yer so scared.” “It’s ok, but I’m glad you had it easy this time. I’ll try to explain what’s going on though.” 

He lays down on the bed, holding his head up. “So, who the hell are you?”

“Well… My name is (y/n). I’m actually from (hometown) and I’m commuting to college to save money. The problem is well… I woke up here in someone else’s car and I don’t know how I ended up here.”

“Whaaat? That-that car you stole wasn’t yours?!” He pulled out his coat hanger, heating the tip for some napalm crinklies to eat.

“I didn’t steal it… I think? I literally blacked out to bed and I woke up in that car. I live very far away from here.”

“Woah… far out. You escaped your kidnapper AND stole his ride.” He scratched his plate. “Hardcore, man.”

“Ah, well…” I winced at how he would react next. “I wasn’t from the year 1986 though, and not this timeline.”

“Oh really? Ha ha ha… What timeline then?” He reached over for his soda and took a large sip.

“Where I’m from, you’re from a franchise called The Texas Chainsaw Massacre…”

He spat the drink out all over my shirt and began laughing so badly, he fell off the bed.

“WOOOAH! I’m a movie star!? Aaan-and I thought I was the psycho.” He was teasing me and smacking my face around, singing some inane song about how I was a maniac, somehow more than him. “Wind me up and watch me go! Watch me go right for your dough! SPOT THE PSYCHO! SPOT THE PSYCHO!”

At this point I was angry beyond belief at him. He’s ridiculing me like everyone else has. I snapped.

“Oh, go figure! Why bother even doing this anymore? No kidding I lost my mind! If I was lying, then how would I have known about you and Bubba?! How would I have known about ‘Naaaam land and how Nubbins got flattened by a truck?! I thought you and I had similar struggles, but clearly I am once again an absolute moron for even caring about you! Because you are just as bad as the ruthless people out there who’ve torn me up! Now do me a favor and snap my fuckin’ neck!” I angrily wriggle off the bed and fall on the bulbs of christmas lights that are touching the floor. Large sparks loudly emerge and zap me. It feels like electric eels biting my lower back. Chop-Top immediately freezes up. “Flashback…”, he musters out. I look down and see a small fire has now shown up on his shaggy carpet. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” All I can do is aggressively bump the table over to knock over the soda. Glass shatters and the fire is extinguished by the sugary savior known as Big Red. I use the glass to cut myself free and head over to Chop-Top. 

I never saw him like this. His knees were touching the floor. He was gritting his teeth and his vision was staring out at something. At horrors I can’t even imagine. Maybe it was wrong to blow up at him. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Chop-Top didn’t even look at me. He just started breathing heavily. I don’t know why I loved him. I was going to die anyways, so there’s no holding myself back. The least I can do is give him the love I never had.

I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back. Taken aback, it wasn’t until a few moments later he fell into my arms. “You deserve better than this, Chop-Top.” I whispered. “The world roughed you up. Just know that you’re home now. ‘Nam land will stay far away.” He started to tremble, lifting his head up. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” He started to sniffle.

“Because I see good in you.” 

“Good? I-In me? I’m your worst goddamn nightmare!”

I shook my head and began to tell him how wrong he was. “I know we just met, but I really do care about you. I feel horrible for all the stuff you’ve been through and the same goes for the rest of the family. You don’t let people twist your heart around like I do. I wish I was able to be abrasive against those who wronged me. But… You’re also very funny and you have made me smile. I even think you have a lovely singing voice! And you can outsmart anybody! I just…” I stop and see his oceanic eyes are on the verge of tears. **“You’re my fave,”** I tell him. I so badly want to tell him how I love him, but I don’t know if it’s time yet. Chop-Top is hiccuping, his heart on a ticking time bomb until he gives into vulnerability. “N-nobody has EVER been so kind to me. Not even the nurses at the VA hospital. They’d be scared to be alone with me and always b-bu-buzz in for another person to resTRAIN me. I-If what you’re saying is true then… What’s my real name? If you really do see all this in me and are from a world beyond here then.. Why don’t ‘ya say it?” 

I can only hope he doesn’t snap from this. 

I gulp and close my eyes.

“Your real name is Robert Sawyer. And in some cases, B-Bloody Bobby.”

“Holy shit.” 

The fuse had lit and the embers of an emotional fire had burned within him. Bobby crashed into me and just started sobbing. Something about seeing him sad really tugged on my heart strings. I hugged him as best as I could to comfort him. Bobby then pulled down on my soda-stained shirt. “Holy shit, you weren’t lying! YOU WEREN’T LYING!” he tried to laugh in his tears, only to cry harder. “I-I-IIIIII made uh *hic* made a wish a few nights ago. I knew nobody would ever truly love a *sniffle* l-love a wreck like me. So I made a wish on a star that somebody… anybody… could bring me some hope.” 

“Oh my gosh…” Now I was starting to cry too. “So did I! Just last night!”

He just flashed a smile at me. I wiped his tears away with my thumb. “ Y/N, I got so much I wanna say-”

Chop-Top was cut off by the breach of his bedroom door. 

“WHAT’S THIS?!” cried out a furious old man. He was dressed in coveralls and a red bowtie. He had bags under his eyes for who knows how long he’s been working. His hair was grey and his face scorned at us. He pulled Chop-Top by the ear, making him yelp. “Let him go!”, I reach over to set him free but I’m backhanded by the cook. “Leave the boy alone, damn it! He’s supposed to be butchering today’s catch.” Furious, Drayton turned to his little brother. “Were you trying to chase some tail?”, he scolded. “She’s not a pet! She’s the secret ingredient to our successful business!” 

Chop-Top wanted to tell him to back off. Maybe he got too close to me? Maybe that’s what happened. Yet I made the same wish as he did, know about him and still have positive feelings regardless. Drayton grabbed my wrist. “You get your ass over here. Heheh...” He immediately led me out the door, with Chop-Top trying to catch up. Drayton huffs, “Looks like we’ll be having two guests for dinner tonight.”


	5. Sweet Surrender

_I gave the only love I've known_

_And it never hurt me to fall_

_Now that it's done_

_So glad you won_

_I know our lives have only begun_

_No more retreat_

_Only my sweet surrender_

Here I am… Trapped in the dining hall of the Sawyer Family. Grandpa Sawyer is wheeled into his seat. Chop-Top is constantly switching his emotions around. He looks at me worried, almost yearning to break me out of the position I’m in. I’m being held down over a metal tub, stained with rust and crusty, oxidized blood by Leatherface. I’m too tired to bother flailing about.

The other dinner guest is screaming her head off. Her hands are tied to the literal arms of the bone throne and her long, blond locks are rapidly swaying back and forth. He’s waving his straight razor in her face, occasionally cutting her own hair and stuffing it in her mouth. “Hehehe! Y-you got a haircut! And I got a _head-cut_! See?” He shows off his head plate. “Fuck you!” the damsel yells. Chop-Top gets offended. “Hey, fuck YOU!” Her hair at this point is a mangled bob. He stuffs in more hair as she spits it out again. “Hog bitch…”

“Alright, time to feed Grandpa!”, Drayton alarms. Chop-Top puts his straight razor on the table and hobbles over, fidgeting in distress. Grandpa is given the hammer and he… drops it in the bucket. I sigh, staying still. “Don’t worry, Grandpa,” I encouraged. “You still got it.” I hand him the hammer and get back on my knees. Bubba isn’t holding me anymore. The brothers are all puzzled. Drayton squints at me, rubbing his temples. “You’re not scared?” “Not really.” I tell him. “I mean, you get your fresh meat and I get eternal rest from my warped mind.” The Sawyers look at each other. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” the cook continues. “Heh, sure making it feel harder than it usually is. The killing is supposed to be the best part.” 

Grandpa takes a couple more swings while his grandsons cheer him on. **Bang!** It hit the pail and they put it in his grip again. This repeats a few more times until something knocks over Chop-Top. I stumble over in a panic. The woman must’ve cut herself free. She was trying to slice his neck with his own razor. She managed to make a long gash across his arm as attempts to wriggle himself free from being pinned down. A crimson puddle leaks through his shirt. 

I’m starting to shake, my mouth curling into a twisted frown. Something took over me in that moment. I took the hammer from the ground and charged towards the bitch. With a hammer raised, I pounced on her with a bellowed war cry. I’m bashing at her non-stop. Her cries are shrill and scared. I yell at her. “LEAVE HIM ALONE, YOU BITCH HOG!” Her skull makes crunching noises and my hands are soaked with blood. I can’t seem to remember the rest. It was all red. Not just the brains spilling out of her, but the wrath I felt overcome me. Was fate really making me show him my ugly side? But I would never want to hurt someone! This isn’t like me. This wasn’t really me...right?

“Y/N?” Chop-Top’s voice stopped me from now strangling the living punching bag. I loosen my grip on her neck and she stopped gurgling. Her eyes faded from a vibrant green to a dull olive. I stepped away, frightened of my newly committed crime. I committed a grave sin. I was supposed to help set her free, not… 

“You saved me.” He had this warmth in his expression. “I didn’t mean to-” “Shhhh…” he hushed, heading over to me in a hug. I didn’t know how to feel about this. I have an odd desire to want to spend time with him. I want us to love each other. But it’s not worth hurting people. And I don’t want him to get hurt. Overwhelmed, I whimper and cry into his shirt. “I love you.” I sobbed. Chop-Top didn't say anything, but I felt him kiss me on top of my head.

Drayton stepped into the picture, while Bubba made sure Grandpa was ok. “I never seen someone like you fight back so hard before.” Drayton said. “You’re different… but you aren’t a Sawyer!” Chop-Top scowled at him. “Oh quit bitchin’, you ol’ weasel! ‘Course she is!” “

“Oh yeah? How?”

“She saved me twice, she was nice to Grandpa a-aaand I think she’s strong. Look at her killin’! Can’t she help out the business? Maybe more meat’ll get prepared quicker!”

Drayton thought about this. They have been financially better off with their Last Round Up Rollin’ Grill business. Nubbins hasn’t been able to move since a young girl escaped the slaughter back in August of ‘73. Perhaps an extra pair of hands could help around.

“If she’s one of us, then she’s gotta be a part of the family.”

“Really? Oh boy!” Chop-Top said, elated.

“But is she a sister? A cousin? What should she be to us?”

Without hesitation, Chop-Top came up with a conclusion.

“She’s my wife!”

 _But we just met!_ I panicked. Did he really develop feelings that fast? I guess if you’re emotionally volatile and pain is your life, then anything goes. I may as well be just as crazy to jump on this bandwagon.

“Not so fast,” Drayton sneered. “We need Grandpa’s approval first.”

I approach Grandpa and he stares at me for a good long time. Does he even know I’m there?

The room falls silent for about a minute. 

“He said yes!” Drayton cheered. The whole room was a celebration. _But he didn’t even do anything!_ I thought to myself. Bubba was clapping and patted Grandpa’s back. Chop-Top gave me the sloppiest kiss on the lips. I was so thrown off, I could barely kiss back as he nearly ate my face. Yet something about his lips attempting to lock with mine made my heart flutter in excitement. After my unexpected first kiss, Drayton shook my hand.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N. We’re happy to have you become a Sawyer.”

Drayton then lectured about Chop-Top and I “eloping” to get the legality of us getting married and that back home was when the real celebration could begin. It was agreed that within a month was when the wedding would take place.

Why is everything rushing so fast? I felt so tired and I just wanted to lay down already. But something about this is oddly happy. Maybe there’s a chance this is a blessing in disguise. I still love him anyways. This may have had a rough beginning, but there’s still hope that this would be a brighter next chapter of our lives together. 

“Come on, Lil’ Mama.” Chop-Top said, while holding my hand. “You must’ve really gotten out some energy rollin’ them punches. Let’s get some shut eye!”

We headed to bed earlier than expected, while poor Bubba was yelled at to clean up the mess. I squeeze his hand firmly on our way there.


	6. Now I Need You (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK THIS IS SMUT I REPEAT THIS IS SMUT! LEMONS! EVERY VILLIAN IS LEMONS!
> 
> I haven't shared this type of writing before, so I hope you enjoy it. But be aware that this is very naughty. It includes oral/69 and missionary.

_I'm calling you now (oh now I need you)_   
_Calling you now (oh how I need you)_   
_Please come to me now_   
_Now I need you, l need you_   
_I need you, l need you right now_

I’m laying down in Chop-Top’s surprisingly cozy bed. We’re in a cuddled position where we both face each other, my head into his chest. I’m in an exhausted daze because so much happened in so little time. The record player is spinning Iron Butterfly. How long did I sleep back home before waking up in a new life? Either way, I can’t waste away the chance to get to know my fiance much better face to face.

“So… How was your day, sweetheart?”  
Chop-Top perked up and managed a sweet smile (despite owning a rotten pair of chompers). “Goooood!” He replied. “ ‘specially ‘cause yer here now,” he purrs while nuzzling into my chest. I smiled, kissing the top of his head.

I suddenly remembered that he got cut on the arm earlier. “Shoot! I almost forgot about your arm, Chop!” I propped us up and checked the side of his arm. There was a short cut reaching from his wrist to above the middle. The blood is somewhat fresh still, but it’s starting to catch the air. “Oh that? Pffft!”, Chop-Top brushed off. “That’s normal, baby. Nothin’ like a little blood, right?”  
“It’s still worrisome, I just…”

I didn’t know how to explain how bad this is to someone who wouldn’t bat an eye at a senseless murder. “Please let me clean you up.” I asked him. Chop-Top just stuck his tongue at me. “Jokes on you, lil’ lady.”, he snickered. “There’s no bath around here! Well, unless you count the sinks. And I don’t wanna get wet.” Suddenly, Chop-Top fell to the bed, pulling me to his lap. “But...maybe you do instead?”

Oh gosh. My heart was pounding through my chest. Without realizing, I was fidgeting in his lap, rubbing back and forth against his crotch. The warm friction at such a slow pace teased me, only to make me feel even hotter. He’s only making me want more. I begin to feel him start to roll his hips, his grip on my hips getting firmer. I could feel something else getting firmer underneath me. I didn’t think he was so big. Then again, he is much taller than me so… maybe that’s a hint his member would be..?

My thought was interrupted by my sweet Sonny Bono catching my attention. “Look at my face. Look!” He panted. Chop-Top then licked the blood off of his arm. I guess he was trying to be sensual, but knowing how impatient he was, it looked more like he was dragging his tongue around too much. It’d be awkward, but I was focusing on his thick, wet tongue. Damn it, I was desperate to feel that myself. I didn’t know how much longer I could take it.  
“I want to feel you so badly,” I whined.  
“Then come closer to me, hon. “ he beckoned.  
I ripped off my pajama shorts as fast as I could, tossing it aside onto the tacky sofa behind us. I crawled towards him as Chop-Top studied my body from below me. Without haste, I lowered my love zone to his mouth.

Chop-Top got to work right away. He was hungrily eating me out within that moment. He was getting into a rhythmic pattern. He was brushing my clit gently in an up and down motion, only to suck on it with his tongue tracing around it in circles at the same time. I moaned in pleasure. I could barely say anything to him other than “More….” and “Don’t stop!” My chrome-topped romeo gave me a final kiss on my lower lips before shoving his tongue into me to further explore.

I could feel the core of my soul want to burst. Enveloped in pure ecstasy, I rolled my hips to match his movements. He thrusted his tongue mercilessly against my tight walls. I quivered and tightened around him, gyrating my hips around. My breathing was so shaky as I grabbed onto the bed sheets for dear life. “Bobby!” I cried. “I neeeeed yoooou!!” I leaned over to his crotch as he continued working his magic. I wanted him to feel the same spell of bliss he enchanted me with. I feel myself melting in the heat of the moment. I pawed at his crotch. He was more than ready. I undid his jeans and his throbbing hard-on confidently stood up before me. It’s no use keeping him waiting now. I kiss his head before going down on him. I’m bobbing up and down as my hand repeats the same motion on his shaft. Chop-Top just moans into me. At one point, I rub my thumb around in small circles on his tip while kissing him all over, occasionally licking and sucking along him.

He pulls his tongue out. “I-I’m really close to-to cummin’ but… ah, I wanna cum inside you a different way.” Chop-Top pushes me down onto the bed. The way he’s hovered over me with eyes locked into mine arouses me. He smirks and holds onto my hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” he asks. I nod my head. “Yes, but…I’m nervous.”  
Chop just chuckles and rubs the side of my face gently. “Aww, it’s okay.” he hushed. “Just hold on to me as tight as you can, alright? I-I promise to make sure you feel nothin’ but the love I’ve got for you.” I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, anticipating him. He only teases my entrance rubbing his dick against my quivering, wet folds. “Mmmn, don’t tease me now….” I whimper. He only laughs at me. “Hahaha, okay! Okay! No more messin’ around.”

I bridge myself to try and help him get in a little easier. Chop keeps his promise as he carefully slides every inch of himself into me. I squeak and dig my nails into his back. “Shit, you’re really tight!” he comments. He starts to buck his hips at a moderate pace. I lose myself into his gentle touch. I’m whining his name, unable to control myself from clenching further around his cock. We’re moaning messes together. I can’t help myself from extending myself to hold his hand tenderly. Our foreheads are pressed against each other, panting in sync. Chop-Top continues to heave himself into me, only now he’s excited enough to thrust at a harder pace now. He’s squeezing my hips as hard as he can, but the rough fucking doesn’t bother me. After the whirlwind of tonight’s sudden events? It’s only fair to work out all the pent-up frustration together.

“Babe, I’m really c-close! To-to toooo… I think I’m gonna cum!”  
“Me too!” I said, locking my legs around his frame.  
“Are you ready?” He was pounding at full force now.  
“One… A-a-aand a two… an- THREE!”  
Before he could cry out in his orgasm, I silenced him with a passionate kiss. Our lips lock and we feel the warmth between us glow. He snaked his tongue into my mouth and groaned. He filled me up, with his hot cum shooting into me. We part our kiss, but not our position. We try to catch our breath. Chop-Top laid his head on my chest, as we listened to the soft organ solo play on In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. He looks up at me and grins.

“That was fucking amazing…”


End file.
